Nothing Is Infinite
by Madison Dyann
Summary: Jacqueline Baratheon had already crossed the age of nineteen when she arrived in Winterfell with her king brother and his family. (possible Jaime/OC)
1. Winterfell

The woman slowed her horse to a stop behind the Queen's wheelhouse before allowing a young squire to help her dismount. Her knees shook slightly due to the many weeks of riding and she left out a soft groan of discomfort. She had rode horseback almost the entire way from King's Landing in the South to Winterfell in the North, only walking very rarely and only once riding in the large wheelhouse with the Queen and her young children.

She unconsciously pulled the heavy dark yellow cloak tight around her body to protect it against the cold wind of the North. It was trimmed in fur, which tickled slightly against her skin. "Well, this is drearier than I expected." She said quietly to no one in particular, as the others in the company began to dismount from their horses. To the woman, the North just appeared to be a land of grey. Even the green of the summer grass was tainted by the fog that stretched from the ground to the sky covering everything in its bleak hue. Small flakes of white snow floated down from the sky but never making it to the warmer ground. The walls of Winterfell were built from large granite stones and they only added to the dullness of the landscape. But the people within the walls seemed a bit more worthy of note, the girl noticed as she moved her eyes to the group of Northerners lined up orderly in the yard, awaiting the King.

"Then you should find it quite appealing." A quick voice said to her right. She ignored the owner, as she often did, and turned her back on the procession to attend to her horse. Jacqueline Baratheon had already crossed the age of nineteen when she arrived in Winterfell with her king brother and his family. She was shorter than her three older brothers, but they all had the same eyes of blue and black hair, though of course Stannis was starting to lose his. Lady Jacqueline's own hair moved with the wind as it fell down her back. It was pinned back out of her face and her once passionate blue eyes followed her gloved hand as she moved it absentmindedly across the brown horse's fur. Beneath the dark yellow cloak she wore a deep blue grown, which matched her eyes, made of heavy fabric for the Northern cold.

When she felt that her presence was needed, she removed her attention from her horse and back to the crowd gathered. Just as she did, the man who had mocked her, the Kingslayer, walked pass, probably on some earn from his sister, the Queen. Her brother and Ned Stark had disappeared, leaving their two families alone together. Queen Cersei had already introduced herself and Jacqueline forced the apathetic look on her face to be replaced by one of curiosity, for fear someone would take offense to an unpleasant look, as she crossed the short distance to greet the Starks.

She felt a number of eyes follow her, a sensation that had been oddly absent for years in King's Landing. Lady Jacqueline had somehow perfected the seemingly impossible task of being invisible and thus ignored in the capitol. But she was not accustomed to the North or the North to her. Years ago, when people took notice of her, they told her she was beautiful and she hoped that was the cause for the attention now. She hoped here that her beauty would not be tainted by the reason behind her lack of a marriage, at least for a little while. Fueled by the possible false idea that people were looking at her for something good and not bad, she managed a happy and sincere voice when she greeted the Lady of Winterfell.

"Lady Catelyn," Jacqueline said with a hit of familiarity, though she hoped not so much that it would seem forced or fake. There was no sign of recognition on the older woman's face, confirming the younger one's belief that they had never crossed paths before. She barely missed a beat before she added, "I don't think we've ever met. Lady Jacqueline Baratheon."

Catelyn smiled as she recognized the name. "Yes, of course. You look so much like your brothers." The Lady of Winterfell appeared happy to meet someone who was not a Lannister.

Jacqueline too was glad to meet someone who did not have golden hair. Instead, Lady Catelyn had dark auburn hair, a trait she passed on to a number of children. "I do hope I am a bit prettier than them." Jacqueline laughed a real laugh, a rare event. She loved it when people told her she reminded them of her brothers. It gave her a sense of worth. If only for a moment.

That was when one of the Stark children spoke up. "Are you the King's sister?" It was the little brown haired girl. Her words were quick and her voice excited as she bounced next to her older sister. Lady Catelyn looked a bit distraught at her daughter's rudeness but bad manners rarely upset the Baratheon woman. Nothing really upset the Baratheon woman. She was King Robert's sister after all.

"Yes, child." Jacqueline said, enjoying her first impression of the Starks.

When the little Stark spoke again, she spoke all in one breath, stringing each word together without rest. "Is it true you can't have children? Why can't you have children?" Lady Stark took a sharp inhale of breath before reprimanding her youngest daughter. The young girl clearly realized she spoken ill but did not seem to understand how. Her slender face was full of both regret and confusion.

Lady Jacqueline politely silenced the older woman with a small wave of her hand before walking to the outspoken child, where she kneeled to see the girl at eye level. She wore a heavy blue wool cloak, edged in grey fur. Her brown hair was braided and wrapped up in a bun. Unlike her older sister, who stood next to her with a slightly horrified look on her face, she looked nothing like her mother. "What's your name, sweet girl?" Jacqueline said softly.

The girl didn't know where to look so she settled on the ground around her feet. "Arya, my lady."

"And how old are you?"

"Nine, my lady."

"You're smart for your age." The compliment seemed to ease a bit of the tension that had fallen on the Stark side of yard. The immediate Stark family along with Jacqueline had failed to notice that everyone else gathered in the courtyard had begun to move about their business, now that the majority of pleasantries were done with. Jacqueline continued in a stern yet soft voice, as if she was sharing an important secret not met for other ears. "Yes, it is true I cannot bear children. The gods did not honor me with that gift."

The little girl seemed to want to ask more questions but thought better of it. The conversation ended when the King and Ned Stark returned from the crypts.


	2. Ours is the Fury

Jacqueline was done with the feast. She had already eaten, drank and danced too much. The social interaction alone was enough to overextend the normally reticent lady. Not that she did not enjoy talking with her hosts. The Starks were an uncomplicated family, more concerned with the coming of winter and the movement of wildlings than the frivolous concerns of those at court in the capitol. Jacqueline liked that about them.

While the patriarch of the family, Eddard Stark, appeared austere, especially in comparison to the king, the other Starks held a bit of innocent liveliness that was missing in King's Landing. The eldest boy, Robb, tried to play the part of his father's son and future Lord of Winterfell, but the ward, Theon Greyjoy, along with his younger brothers brought out a more childlike side to him. The little ones, Bran and Rickon, tried to be courteous and spend time with Prince Tommen, but he was too shy and unadventurous for them so the Stark boys set about running around tables, talking to anyone who would talk back. The little girl, Arya, was much of the same.

The eldest girl was a bit different. Sansa Stark appeared to inherit more from the Tully side than just her looks. If Jacqueline thought the girl excited by the royal visit that morning in the yard, she was ecstatic now that her betrothal to Prince Joffrey had been announced. And why would she not be excited? She would be queen someday and her children would be princes and princesses. Jacqueline hoped that day was a long way into the future because it would mean Robert's death and Joffrey's coronation; two things she did not want to see happen.

After finishing her cup of wine and a last dance with a more than eager Theon Greyjoy, Lady Jacqueline took her leave of Great Hall and the feast. In need of fresh air, she found her way outside into the cold night. The snow fell in larger flakes but they still did not reach the ground before disappearing into nothingness. She stood on the large stone steps outside the hall; she could still hear the sounds of laughter and the clinking of glasses as she breathed in the cold air.

The sharped pains in her lungs caused by the frigidness of it were the only time Jacqueline felt the cold. Her dress was form fitting and made of wool dyed a dark green color and she was able to hide her bare hands in the large bells of her sleeves. The front part of her black hair was braided before being pinned to the back of her head in a circular style. The rest of it was allowed to freely fall down her back and now it waved in the later summer wind.

Light from the Great Hall leaked outside and lit up parts of the courtyard but Jacqueline paid no attention to anything in front of her. Instead she lifted her eyes to the night sky. Flakes of snow melted against her cheeks but she never felt the cold thanks to the wine. She exhaled and watched her breath float up towards the stars before it faded away. A strong wind swept through the courtyard and alerted Jacqueline of the cold once again. A rather violent shiver went through her body and she dug her hands deeper into her sleeves, gripping her elbows with the opposite hand.

A tall shadow appeared next to her and the owner's voice broke through Jacqueline's quiet concentration. "You'll catch your death out here." Jaime Lannister appeared from the light of the Great Hall and took a place beside Jacqueline in the shadows. Jaime was taller than her. Almost everyone was taller than her for she had missed out on the tallness that ran in her family. It was not the only she missed out on.

"Do you not have a king to be guarding, ser?" She asked with a politeness that did not match the words. Jacqueline actively refused to call him 'Kingslayer' aloud, though sometimes the name appeared in her thoughts. She felt that she would never fully understand the hostility Jaime Lannister received for killing the Mad King. A king who burn people alive did not seem like a king who warranted oaths of loyalty. Jacqueline voiced this opinion years earlier, when she twelve, in the presence of her brother Stannis, who had then reprimand her with a long lecture about of honor and duty. She never mentioned it again.

Another gust of cold air swept into the yard. Jacqueline shivered before holding her body tighter as her hair danced in the wind. Jaime appeared unaffected by the cold as he ignored her question, "You should go back inside."

"You go back inside." She spat, politeness overtaken by wine. After a brief moment, when she realized her rudeness, she turned to the knight and offered an apologetic smile, as best as her now numb face would allow. "Pardon me, ser. I should not have said that." Jaime looked at her with his green eyes then laughed and Jacqueline's anger returned. "Am I that funny to you?" She said harshly.

His laugh faded away and then he answered, his voice a mixture of arrogance and amusement, "Yes, you are, my lady. You always do that. The instant that Baratheon fury makes its presence known, it disappears just as quickly. And then you apologize. I wonder, did Stannis tell you it was your duty to be polite all the time as a child, Lady Jacqueline?" The knight laughed again

Jacqueline denied him any more courtesy and refused to give him an answer. But Stannis did have a part in her temperament; all her brothers did. Her parents had died months after Jacqueline was born and Robert began his rebellion when she was three. Her brother Renly, who was just a year older, and her were moved from Storm's End before the Tyrell's laid siege to the castle. From a young age, she felt a burden on her older brothers and she did her best to lessen it by not making a fuss. Even as a little girl she gave no complaints.

When Robert took the throne, Renly was given the seat of Storm's End and Stannis the island of Dragonstone. Many people, including the Queen, advised Robert to have someone take young Jacqueline as a ward. Perhaps his friend Eddard Stark in the north or the Queen's father at Casterly Rock. Instead, the king brought her to King's Landing and she was raised at court.

The quiet girl grew into a quiet woman. A quiet woman who refused to take part in the politics of lies and betrayal that plagued the capitol. She pandered to everyone and thus pandered to no one. Contentment was her game; the false world's best disguise. She managed the facade for so long, she no longer had a role in the game. Her part had come to an almost sudden end when Maester Pycelle declared her barren. She could not bear child and so could not be part in the arrangement of marriages, which, according to one of Stannis' guards, was all a woman was good for. Marriage and bearing heirs. Jacqueline could not do that, so she had fallen further into the cracks of whispers at King's Landing. A true neutral piece forgotten on the sidelines. But despite the lack of attention given to her by the important players, she still kept the disguise of contentment for fear of being put back into play.

She bid a good night, in an overly sweet tone, to the Kingslayer, before walking away towards her room as quickly as her cold feet would take her. Unfortunately, Ser Jaime had a longer stride and was able to keep up easily. He made some mention about escorting her safely to her sleeping chamber but Jacqueline paid him no attention. She walked in silence as the knight walked beside, right hand resting on the pommel of his sword and his voice resumed the mocking tone. He was always mocking her, hoping for a reaction and rarely getting one.

After a few minutes, they reached Jacqueline's room, which was located in one of the inter towers of Winterfell, and the woman gracefully stepped into the warm room and closed the door without a word or second glance at her escort.


	3. The Hunt

**Whoaa! So sorry for the long wait. I needed to revise where I wanted to this story and then I was flooded with schoolwork and my writing just sat around unfinished. But I'll try to get back on track and update more regularly. Thanks for all the feedback. It really helps. :) - Madison**

* * *

Jacqueline decided she was wrong about the North. It was still much too cold for her, but the landscape was more pleasant than she originally thought. Without the eerie fog, the short grass appeared a dark green color against the greyish blue sky. The sun was still not visible behind the shapeless clouds. The ground refused to remain flat for any accountable distance and instead traveled up and down creating hills and valleys, some higher and deeper than others. It was warmer that day, than it had been on the day of their arrival. But she doubted that she could ever get use to the cold.

Jacqueline was dressed in thick green velvet. Her grown started high on her neck and fell loosely over her small body, collecting slightly at her waist. The sleeves were snug against her arms and her hands were covered with gloves made of brown leather. Her open surcoat was wool, dyed a darker green, lined in dark fur and tied around her waist with an adjoining silver brooch in the shape of a leaping stag. Her black hair was pulled back into a single large braid.

She tightened her grip on the reins as the grey palfrey picked up his pace. The horse had been a gift from Renly on her sixteenth name-day and he had become her most prized possession. Jacqueline had been invited to join the royal hunt, though it sounded more like a command the way Robert had asked her. She would have preferred to stay behind in Winterfell with the rest of the women. She had drank too much wine at the feast and now wanted nothing more than to return to her room and fall back asleep, despite the growing charms of the north. The king was always forcing her into social settings, whether it be festivals in the capitol or hunting in the north. Robert knew that if she was left behind in Winterfell, she would spend the day in her room, content with being alone.

Jacqueline knew the people of King's Landing, including some at court, had taken to calling her Stannis the Younger. She supposed she had adopted a few of her older brother's traits. They were both seldom creatures; always frowning or scowling. They both had forgotten how to smile, truly smile. Stannis had never known how to laugh and Jacqueline was quickly forgetting how to do that as well. She had once been so much like her brother Renly. Chasing after him as a child screaming 'look at me, look at me' as they played games together. But Jacqueline was forced to grow up. Grow up or be a burden. And Jacqueline refused to be a burden.

Robert rode beside Eddard Stark. Her brother had asked Lord Stark to be his new Hand of the King but she was unsure if Stark had given his answer yet. The answer would be 'yes' though. Robert may have been Ned's oldest friend, but he was still king. After them came Prince Joffrey and the Hound. Jacqueline's eldest nephew wore a dark red doublet with gold stitching. Over his back hung a long dark cloak with one half adorned with the crowned stag of House Baratheon and the other half with the roaring lion of House Lannister. Jacqueline hated that. As a woman, she figured she should appreciate a son taking pride in his mother's house but as a Baratheon, she was infuriated by the equal representation. Jacqueline liked to think herself more of a Baratheon than a woman.

Jacqueline made conscious decisions not to interact with the prince. When she did, she was always polite and courteous, never giving him a reason to snap at her. He would be king one day and she wanted to survive his reign. There were many a night when Jacqueline found herself crying over the children she would never have. But then in the morning, Joffrey would do or say something horrible and Jacqueline thanked the Mother for not making her one. What if her child turned out like Joffrey, cruel and vicious? But then there were Tommen and Myrcella; two sweet and kind children so unlike their older brother. No, she thought, better that the gods made her barren and never force her to deal with such odds.

Behind the prince and his sworn shield, rode Jacqueline on her palfrey. Riding directly behind her, all atop two dark coursers, were Ned's eldest son Robb, Theon Greyjoy, the ward of Winterfell, and Ned's brother who was visiting from the Wall. She was of an age with Theon, both having been ten years old when Balon Greyjoy rebelled against the Iron Throne. It had been six years after Robert's own rebellion, and again Jacqueline was left behind, this time in King's Landing, as her two older brothers went to war. Robert had superior numbers and resources so Balon's reign as King of the Iron Islands had not lasted long, less than a year. Afterwards, there was a tourney at Lannisport to celebrate the victory and she made her only trip to the Westerlands at her brother's bequest. Jacqueline remembered very little from that tourney, only that Ser Jaime Lannister lost the final to some knight from Bear Island.

Theon himself was a tall, lean boy, or man, with dark black hair and a handsome face. He always appeared to be smiling, as if he was enjoying some unspoken joke. His clothes were nondescript and he carried a quiver of arrows and a bow across his back. Robb Stark was only armed with a sword, which he wore on his hip. Robb looked more like his mother, curly auburn hair and Tully blue eyes and high cheekbones. The two youngest Stark boys were too young to join them on the hunt and Jacqueline was the only woman invited along.

"Jaks! Get up here." The King bellowed back at her. She steered her horse out of the line and trotted up to the front, which awarded with a sneer from her nephew. She went to right side of her brother, curious as to what he wanted. Robert never paid her much attention as a child, or an adult. She was low on his list of priorities, even lower than his wife and children.

"Your Grace?" Jacqueline said once she reached her brother.

"How do you like Winterfell?" Robert asked, barely looking at her.

He had never asked her opinion before, on anything, so Jacqueline was a bit surprised at the question. "I like it well, You Grace. It's a bit different from King's Landing. Their godswood looks bigger." Jacqueline said the first things that came to mind.

That made the king laugh. Robert's laugh was a boisterous sound that erupted from his large stomach. It was often an endearing trait; unless he was laughing at you then it was obnoxious and annoying. "The godswood, of all the things…Robb! My sister wishes to see your godswood." The king commanded, to his sister's dismay. In a quieter voice, he added "I expect you to return when you're done looking at the trees. You're not getting out of this day so easily, Jaks."


	4. Bad Decisions

Jacqueline spent most of the short ride giving apologies and Robb spent it accepting them. Theon just laughed. She didn't know what her brother was playing at. She had attended the hunt without protest and she had been quite social the previous evening. What more did he want from her? _I should have done with Stannis to Dragonstone instead of with Robert to Winterfell. At least Stannis appreciates my silence._ No. Robert did not have quite the same amount of entertainment in the north as he did in the capitol and he made up for it by forcing his sister into unwanted social interactions with strangers.

Though, Jacqueline was happy to get a chance to see Winterfell's godswood. King's Landing's godswood was just a small, dense patch of trees. It didn't even have a proper heart tree. All weirwoods in the south had been burnt or cut down a long time ago. But Winterfell's was much larger, covering multiple acres and untouched for thousands of years. The trees grew taller too and far apart enough that Jacqueline could easily ride her horse into forest. Leaves crushed underneath her palfrey's hooves as they made for the center of godswood. The forest smelt of moist earth and decay and she heard the soft, distant chirp of birds and rustle of bushes as small animals darted away from them.

Robb rode to her left and Theon to her right. Apart from the apologies, the three did not speak. It did not seem necessary to fill the silence with words in a place such as this. They came to a large round clearing. A large white tree grew towards the sky in the center. Small red oval leaves that had fallen from the weirwood floated on the surface of the small pond positioned in front of the tree. The three halted their horses and dismounted. As Jacqueline swung her foot over, a pair of hands appeared on her waist, startling her. She lost her grip on the pommel of her saddle and she felt her foot turn, caught in the stirrup. She fell backwards and would have landed on her bottom if it wasn't for the hands.

She looked up and saw Theon giving her an almost sympathetic smile. "Sorry." Jacqueline muttered before straightening herself and pulling out of the creases in her dress.

"Are you okay, my lady?" Robb asked, holding the reins of his horse. He had no trouble in dismounting from the destrier.

"Yes. I'm just still a bit tired from the journey is all, my lord. It's quite a long way from King's Landing to Winterfell, you know." Jacqueline gave her horse a quick pat as an apology for falling.

"Did you ride your horse the entire way?" Theon asked, still standing next to her.

Jacqueline shrugged her shoulders. "Yes, mostly. It was either that or ride with the Queen and her young children. A horse seemed like the more comfortable option." Theon laughed at that.

"Prince Joffrey has certainly lived up this reputation." Robb said softly. Jacqueline knew what he meant. She wanted to blame Cersei for his bad temperament, but she knew it wasn't entirely her fault. Tommen and Mrycella were in no way like their older brother, except in looks. They were something just not right with Joffrey.

"I understand but it would not do well for me to speak ill of my nephew." She said politely, stepping forward, returning her glaze to the weirwood. "How old is this place?" She asked, changing the subject away from her dysfunctional family.

Jacqueline was firm in the Faith of the Seven, much more so than her brothers. As a child, her brothers were erratically away, usually at war. The gods were always there though. It was comforting for her to have some kind of constant in her life. But that did not mean she could not appreciate the Old Gods. She listened intently as Robb told her about the Children of the Forest and the First Men. They sat in front of the heart tree. A long face was craved into the trunk of the lone weirwood and dried red sap ran from the corners of the eyes, giving it a sad appearance.

"We should get back. I would hate to not be there when Robert kills a pig." Jacqueline joked. They mounted their horses, and this time Theon decided Jacqueline could do it herself, and turned their horses around to rejoin the royal hunt. Despite the godswood's size, it was still within Winterfell's walls. They exited the woods and entered the large courtyard, intending to leave through the main gate and head back to the wolfswood.

Only there were a great many more people in the courtyard than the last time. Jacqueline was worried that they had spent too long in the godswood and the hunt was over. But the excitement and pride that usually went with the end of a successful hunt was not the tone of the crowd gathered. They were silent except for a few quiet whispers. Many of the faces were worried and Jacqueline noticed that a few women were crying.

Before she could ask what was going on, Ned Stark and the king came storming through the gate. Lord Stark never paused as he swiftly dismounted and all but ran into the Great Hall. Her brother followed him. Jacqueline had not noticed that Robb had dismounted until she saw his auburn hair disappear into the castle as well. It started to snow as a few other people from the hunt appeared, some taking more time than others.

She got down from the palfrey but did not move to enter the castle; unsure if the matter at hand called for her presence. _If I'm needed, Robert will send someone._ She thought as she stood, holding the reins in one hand. A man appeared next to her, too tall to be Theon. She looked up and recognized the blonde hair of Ser Jaime. "What happened?" The Kingslayer had stayed in Winterfell instead of attending the hunt.

"The boy fell from a tower." He answered in bored tone.

"What? Which boy?" Did he mean Tommen or Rickon?

"Ned Stark's boy. Beren or whatever is name is."

"Bran?" Jacqueline remembered the boy from the previous night running around tables with his little brother following close behind. "How did he fall?"

"Doing something he shouldn't have been. If you climb high enough or often enough, Jacqueline, you're going to fall eventually." His face held no emotion, except, perhaps, a bit of annoyance. "Speaking of bad decisions, my lady," Jaime's smirk returned when he looked down at her. "What were you doing in the woods alone with two men? I've never known you for such scandalous behavior."


	5. Request

A heavy cloud of melancholy had settled over Winterfell along with the thick fog that had rolled in from further north which carried a spat of rain with it. Bran Stark had yet to wake from his fall and the castle seemed to echo his silence. Lady Catelyn spent her days with her injured son, never leaving the room. All the pageantry that had come with the royal visit had all but disappeared. Jacqueline felt awkward at being present in someone's home when such a personal tragedy had occurred.

The boy who consistently clung to her made her feel all the more embarrassed and self-conscious. Just days after his brother's fall, and his mother's ensuing disappearance, little Rickon had taken to craving Jacqueline's attention and going as far as digging his tiny fingernails into her skin to remain with her. When Maester Luwin, with the help of Robb, had tried to separate the two, Rickon had left long scratches on her forearm and screamed so loud that Jacqueline settled on the easy route and let the little boy stay with her. "I think it's your hair," Robb said with a sympathetic smile as his youngest brother climbed into her lap and once again began to play with Jacqueline's long black hair. "Sansa doesn't let him touch her hair."

Jacqueline really did not mind the boy that much, when he was not aggressively pulling at her hair or crying. But that only happened at night when she tried to put him to bed. Together, the two had settled into something of a routine. Every day they took a long walk around the outside of the castle. At first Rickon had insisted on being carried but Jacqueline had managed to get him to settle for holding her hand. His young direwolf, Shaggydog, was never far away from them. One afternoon, when Rickon was in a better-than-usual mood, he let go of her hand long to begin racing his wolf back and forth from the stables to where Jacqueline sat on the stone steps leading into the Great Hall.

Jacqueline reclined against the stone wall, enjoying her short moments of freedom while keeping a close eye on Rickon, for she did not fully trust the direwolf not to act out against its young owner. She wanted to go home. But despite that, Jacqueline was also dreading the long journey back to the capitol. Lord Stark and his two daughters would be joining, along with a small number from his household. The pace would only be slower with the additional people. But Tyrion Lannister would not be joining them for the trip back. The younger Lannister was set on traveling the road north, to see the Wall. Jacqueline had half a mind to go with him, if it meant avoiding the royal procession.

She was thinking about asking Robert for permission to join Lord Tyrion in visiting the Wall when Ser Jaime appeared at her side, an event that was becoming too much of a habit for Jacqueline's liking. "I'm sure you'll have a good amount of time before anyone notices." Jaime said, looking down at her with his bright green eyes.

"Notices what?" Jacqueline asked without taking her eyes off Rickon. The little boy was now chasing the wolf around in tight circles.

"Well, considering you can't have any of your own, it's only a matter of time before you steal someone else's child. This is probably the best chance you're ever going to get." She could almost hear the smirk appear on Jaime's face as he mocked her. Jacqueline ignored him, pretending she did not hear. After a moment of silence Jaime said, "Lord Stark and the King want to speak with you."

Jacqueline looked at him when he said that. With a displeased sigh, she climbed to her feet, refusing Jaime's help, and brushed the dirt off her yellow dress. She thought about asking him to watch Rickon but she knew the answer. So, with Rickon's hand in hers and Shaggy off chasing his siblings, Jacqueline reentered the Great Hall to find her brother.

He was sitting at the table atop the dais alone with his new Hand. Robert looked as if he had just woken up, and Jacqueline was sure he had. Ned Stark looked tired too but that was understandable considering all that had happened. She felt little Rickon twist his hand free from her own before he darted away towards the kitchen, leaving her alone as she made her way to the table. Jacqueline said her formalities as she took a seat at the table with an odd feeling in her stomach that she was not going to like this conversation.

* * *

They were leaving. Bran still had not woken but the king could not wait any longer. Today, the royal company would be returning to King's Landing. Snowflakes were falling from the grey sky as Jacqueline watched others make the final preparations for the journey. Rickon had thrown a fit earlier that day when he learned that his father and sisters were leaving but he now sat quietly in Jacqueline's arms with a hand tangled in her loose hair. She too had wanted to throw a fit when she learned she would be staying behind in Winterfell as well.

Lady Catelyn was still refusing to leave Bran's room and Ned thought it would best for Rickon if Jacqueline could stay behind. _At least until Lord Tyrion returned from the Wall._ Lord Stark had said. Jacqueline found herself unable to deny his request after the king had already expressed his support of it. But after Ned had left to check on Bran and his wife, Jacqueline tried to convince her brother to change his mind, to left return home with him. She did not want to be left behind alone with a family she barely knew to take care of a child that was not hers. But Robert refused to hear it. _Stop being so childish_. He had told her before leaving her alone in the Great Hall.

_I am not a child._ She wanted to yell back. And she wasn't. Jacqueline was nineteen, a woman grown. If she had flowered, she would be married. She would have her own child by now, possibly Rickon's age. But that would never happen. _I am not a child._ She thought again, as she watched King Robert and the rest of the royal parade move under Winterfell's gate and being their journey south. She suppressed the urge to drop the child on her hip and chase after her brother. _It's only for a short time. I'll see my family again. Soon._

* * *

**Wow, you guys. 100 follows! Thank you so much! And so sorry about the wait again. My family went camping and then I was a bit distraught over last week's episode. I've never been so shocked by something I knew was going to happen. **


	6. Howls

Rickon was even worse with the absence of his father and sisters. Between the constant hair pulling and refusing to go anywhere unless Jacqueline carried him, the boy had started to ask when his family would return to Winterfell. None of her answers satisfied him and he kept claiming that she was lying. And now even Robb was not spared Rickon's despair. The boy would now sneak out of bed at odd hours of the night and wake his brother up and ask about his father. Even Rickon's direwolf had become a bit more aggressive towards everyone and never seemed to cease howling.

Winterfell was still quiet days after the king left. Even with the wolves' howls, it was much quieter than King's Landing, an aspect which Jacqueline greatly appreciated. She missed sleeping in her own bed and the cold was still too much for her but she was comfortable in the silence. Jacqueline was so unlike Robert in that sense. The king was never one for quiet or stillness and he actively threw out any remains of such things from his presence. He was noisy and always talking, talking to anyone who would listen, friend or stranger.

Jacqueline did not like conversing with strangers all that much and almost everyone was a stranger to her since she did not really have any friends outside of her family. Part of that was Robert's fault, she believed. His refusal to make her a ward of some other great House meant she was never far away from her family. Jacqueline had spent the largest portion of her life in the capitol with Robert. Renly grew up at Storm's End, only taking a seat on the Small Council when he came of age and Stannis constantly traveled between Dragonstone and the capitol. When someone mentioned that Robert send her to Sunspear or Highgarden, Jacqueline remembered her brother's face turning red before he threw his cup of wine against the wall. She doubted that Robert would ever forgive the Martells and Tyrells for remaining loyal to the Mad King during his rebellion. So, she remained in King's Landing, which many thought was out of Robert's desire not to be completely surrounded by Lannisters.

Not that Jacqueline particularly minded. Even when Stannis and Robert went to war with the Greyjoys, Renly had visited the capitol. Why would she need friends when her family was right there? Everyone else in King's Landing, from the lords on the Small Council to her own handmaidens were simply acquaintances. The Lannisters were her family by marriage, but she never considered them her friends. The only person outside her family who she considered to be her friend was Ser Antario Belmore, her sworn shield, who had remained behind in the capitol with his pregnant wife. If she had known she would be left behind in Winterfell, she would have forced Ser Antario to join the trip north.

Night had already fallen as Jacqueline carried a sleepy Rickon out of the godswood and into the castle. The boy had spent most of the day running from her and chasing his direwolf and by the time Jacqueline caught up and announced it was time for bed, he was too tired to object. After putting Rickon to bed, she climbed the stairs to Bran's room. Jacqueline had taken to sitting beside the injured boy's bed with Lady Catelyn for a few minutes each night. Lady Catelyn never spoke to her, and half the time she doubted that the poor woman even knew she was there, but not did she send the girl away, so Jacqueline felt her presence was somewhat welcome.

Her footsteps were the only sound present in the castle, though the howls of the direwolves could be heard through the stone walls, as she made her way down the long hallway to Bran's room. She ran a hand through her hair in an attempt to fix the damage caused by Rickon's little hands. Her stomach rumbled quietly and Jacqueline wondered if it was too late to get a snack before bed. But all thoughts of a late night visit to the kitchens disappeared when a hand grabbed her hair roughly by the roots. Before she could scream, her head was pushed sharply forward and when it connected with the stone wall a loud crack echoed in Jacqueline's ears before her world fell into darkness.

* * *

Jacqueline opened her eyes but immediately shut them again. _Why is it so bright? _She thought before the voices interrupted her. There was more than one, each telling her wake up. She was lying down on a bed and a smooth pillow was placed under her head. The soft fur blankets brushed against her hands. When she finally opened her eyes again, she could make three faces that looked down at her in the dimness, but they were not the faces she wanted to see. _I'm still in Winterfell._ She thought sadly. "I…why…," It took her a moment to find the correct words. "What happened?" A cold breeze blew in from the open window which framed the night sky. A number of lit candles were scattered across the room to combat the darkness. They did not produce much light but she blinked against the brightness nonetheless. Jacqueline moved to push herself up into a sitting position but when she did a wave of bile swirled in her stomach and she had a hard time keeping herself from vomiting.

"You shouldn't move, my lady." Maester Luwin said as Jacqueline ignored him and the nausea and sat up. The effort exhausted her and she found herself wanting return to sleep. Robb and Theon were there with the maester and all three were looking at her. Her head ached, she felt dizzy and her stomach continued to twist, but their stares bothered her the most. She repeated her question.

"A man attacked you." Robb said, beginning the story of how Jacqueline had come to wake up with a head wound. Before making his way into the castle, and meeting her in the hallway, the man had set the library tower afire. The man must have thought the fire would bring everyone outside, leaving Bran alone. But it did not turn out that way. The man had easily knocked Jacqueline unconscious but he found more trouble once he was in Bran's room. When the man brandished a knife, Lady Catelyn tried to defend her injured son, getting herself injured in the process. In the end, Bran's direwolf ripped the man's throat out before he could kill anyone.

Before Jacqueline could ask why someone would want to kill Bran, Maester Luwin insisted that she needed more rest. The three men bid her a good sleep and walked out of the room, closing the door firmly behind them. She thought of ignoring the maester and crawling out of the fur covered bed and resume her planned trip to the kitchens. Curious, she raised a hand to her head and the spot where it had hit the wall. A small knot was present under her hair and a sharp pain erupted when she touched it. The pain did not go away and Jacqueline eventually conceded, rolling over in the bed and closing her eyes.


End file.
